Devil's Backbone
by Terond76
Summary: Detective Sookie Stackhouse is thrown into a case full of greed, blood, and the supernatural in Shreveport, LA with her partner, Alcide Herveaux. After Jessica Hamby is murdered in a gruesome way it is up to her to decide if the attractive, CEO Eric Northman, bar-owner and friend, Sam Merlotte, or if an unknown species committed this crime. AU, mixes SVM novels and True Blood show.
1. Dust to Dust

**Author's Note : I do not own anything True Blood or Charlaine Harris related. I have always been a fan of the SVM novels and got into the show about 4 years ago. I battled with myself to start a story based on the series. I mixed a bit of the books and the show into this fic. I haven't been on a long hiatus from writing with having three kids now, and my husband told me to go back to writing. This is an AU. Feedback is greatly appreciated.**

**Cheers,**

**~T**

_Prologue_

Shreveport always had obnoxious heat waves that would make a pig sweat. The streets were busy with people walking from here to there, but all were oblivious. They were all oblivious to a killer among them. The killer grinned as he straightened his tie, and glanced at the television noticing the blonde detective being spoken about on the news. He chuckled as he realized she was soon in for a long haul.

_**1.**_

"Detective Stackhouse!" A roaring voice called my name. My head swung up, and I could feel my pony tail swing as my head did. My red faced boss came bursting into my office and I saw the door make an even bigger dent in my wall when it slammed loudly against it.

"Yes, Lieutenant?" I said sweetly.

"Where is Herveaux?" Andy Bellefleur questioned me. Bellefleur, I had known him my whole life, we both came from the washed up hillbilly town that we call home. Both of our families were founders a long time ago. Andy grunted waiting for my answer, and a flick of his hand.

"Alcide isn't in today. He's at that funeral for the Lenier case."

"But you aren't."

"I didn't get attached to the case, he did."

"You don't get attached to anything, do you? Well, I need Herveaux and you to go check out something."

"What is it?"

"We got a sign of struggle by N&B Enterprises."

"Send the zebra _[1] _to go do it." I laughed. Andy cocked an eyebrow at my joke.

"He doesn't need to be doing your shit, you call Herveaux and you get to the scene!"

"What kind of struggle is this?"

"Nail marks on the floor and broken glass along with blood. Lots of blood, Stackhouse." Andy said as he turned towards the door, however he stopped. "Also tell your shithead brother to stop fucking up, or we will strip him and put him back down to patrol."

"It isn't my fault, and you know he loves vice."

Andy didn't even a bat an eye at me before turning around and walking out the door. I pulled out my cellphone, and dialed a number I knew well.

"Stackhouse here."

"Jason, it's Sookie."

"I know it's you, what do you need? Need some bait to wrangle in another meth head?" Jason laughed. I could hear him rummaging around and loud voices in the background.

"No, Jase, I want to talk to you."

"Sook, come on - not now."

"Jason, you said it was under control. You need to stop with the drinking and the badge bunnies."

"That ain't no of your business, sis."

"It is when it is at my office door. Stop or the department is going to send you back to walking the beat."

"Ah, fuck them. I can handle my own. Sookie, did you hear about that blood bath over at the Tower?" Jason asked, he already knew about this which meant the press did. The Tower was the tallest building in Shreveport and everyone and anybody knew about it. N&B Enterprises was located there, and this is where my crime scene was.

"That's my case, Jason. How do you know that?"

"We were all over it around three in the morning."

"Was there drugs there?"

"Nope, nothing."

"Okay, Jason, I have to go, but please clean up your goddamn act. What would Gran say?"

"Gran doesn't know what's happening out here, g'bye." He said before hanging up. I slipped my phone back into my belt case. I stood up before grabbing my coat, and dashing out the door.

. . .

"Nice of you to show up, Herveaux." I giggled as I got out of our car. He ran a hand through his hair, and gave me a pissed off look. "What?"

"You should have been there, Sookie."

"I'm not going to talk to you about this right now." I said as I walked past him, and into the garage of The Tower.

"No body, but decent amount of blood. O negative seems to be the type. There was sign of a struggle, probably dragged from the ground into a car. Then the victim kicked a window hard at the window to make the car alarm go off." Herveaux explained as we walked side by side. Alcide was a big man, maybe six foot four at the tallest. He had tan skin that people would die for, and wisps of grey hair in his black mane. He was an attractive man, but he was more like a brother to me. We met through my brother, and had been friends ever since. Alcide lifted the crime tape for me as we shuffled our way around cops and many people.

"Do we have any witnesses?" I asked.

"No, none at all. We have to talk to the head honcho to get those tapes."

"Alcide, I want you to scan this entire area. Are the two here?" Alcide scratches the back of his neck as he stutters out a yes. I nod before going over to the elevator that will lead me straight up The Tower. The elevator was covered in mirrors so I took the time to make sure my blonde hair was tied back, and that my make-up didn't look like a mess.

I had heard many issues related to this company however the two who owned this multi-billion dollar company that researched pharmaceutical drugs. I have had countless case files open about the company sent in, but the feds always snatched it up to never be seen again.

The elevator dinged as I reached the top floor of the building. I straightened my dress shirt before walking out onto the marble floor. My shoes clicked until I reached the front desk, and a small woman with short blonde hair smiled up at me.

"Hello, I am Detective Stackhouse from Shreveport P.D. I am here to speak to Eric Northman or Pamela Beaufort." I stated with a small smile.

"Is it about that mess down in the garage? That's just awful, I can page Ms. Beaufort for you. She is in at the moment."

"Okay, thank you -" I looked down at her name tag before continuing. "Ginger." The young woman chuckled before reaching for her and speaking quickly. In a matter of moments the large glass door opened and a very tall woman strutted out behind it. Her hair was curled past her shoulders, and a brightly shined in the light. Her make-up was most likely professionally done, and her clothing was most likely ordered from Paris. She didn't even smile as she stood in front of me, and she cocked her hip to one side.

"What do I owe the pleasure?" She had a low southern drawl. She sounded not to all amused that I was here, and that worried me.

"Detective Sookie Stackhouse, Shreveport P.D. I need to speak to you and your business partner about the crime scene down stairs."

"I won't speak until my colleague gets here."

"And when will that be, Ms. Beaufort?" I questioned.

"Soon. What is this conversation going to pertain to?" She coldly said.

"I need the surveillance video tapes of the garage. We have yet to identify—"

"I will hear the rest when Eric gets here. We can sit in his office." Beaufort interrupted me before walking ahead of me. I followed her quickly before the door could shut in my face. I tried to keep up with her ridiculous strides, her long legs stretched farther than my own. She motioned towards a seat in front of a large desk before sitting herself upon it. I took that as an invitation to sit so I did. I grabbed my pad of paper, and crossed my legs.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Beaufort said with no hint of a smile on her face. I shook my head, and was about to thank her however the door was thrown open. I stood up in a rush, and caught sight at Eric Northman. I had heard about him in the papers, seen him on television, but nothing was compared to the way the attitude of the room changed when he entered it.

His blonde hair was slicked back, and he was hiding his blue eyes behind a pair of sunglasses that he removed. He didn't smile just like his colleague, and sat behind the desk. He straightened his tie while cocking an eyebrow at me like he was waiting for me to speak.

"Detective Sookie Stackhouse." I stated while flashing my badge at him. He nodded, and sat back more into his seat.

"I understand that you are in charge of the investigation down stairs." He had a foreign accent, something I couldn't pick up on. He most likely was not from America. I wrote this down as I continued to keep eye contact with him. It was a skill I picked up early on so the interviewee wouldn't think I wasn't listening. He stared at me, and I could see him look me up and down. It was quite intimidating the way he was looking me. I changed my line of sight to Beaufort who was gazing at me almost in the same way now. I fought off a shudder as I looked back to Northman.

"Yes I am, and my partner Alcide Herveaux is down stairs. I wanted to ask you for some information. I'll need both your names and numbers I can contact you on along with who was here last night around ten o'clock at night and until seven this morning."

Northman looked over to Beaufort before sighing, and leaning forward on both his forearms. "I am Eric Northman, you can reach me at this number." He said calmly as he wrote down something, and then handed me a business card. "My personal number is on the back, if you ever _need _anything." He leered at me with a grin on his face.

"Thank you, Mr. Northman."

"Please call me, Eric. Do you have any questions for either of us?"

"Specifically of what you were doing last night, both of you." I told them. Eric cracked his fingers before whispering something in another language to his colleague. Beaufort left the room at those words, and it was just me and the richest man in Shreveport, possibly the country.

"Last night I was the last one out of this building except the security guards, of course. I have my time stamp from when I was here and when I left."

"Anal, are we?" I laughed as I wrote that down.

"No, but we can talk about anal another time."

"Mr. Northman—" I said with an aggravated tone, I glanced down and saw he was wearing a wedding band. What kind of man says things like that when he is married?

"Eric, please. And I took my car home to my property at Weeping Cherry Estates. I was there all night."

"Can anyone complete the alibi?"

"Why are you even questioning me when you haven't seen my surveillance tapes? But I can see that you are looking at a rich man who can do about just anything, I can tell you that I will aid you in this investigation because right now this looks bad on me, so don't fuck with me unless you won't to fuck me." Eric suddenly went from serious to creepy again. I was used to guys hitting on me, but not a man of this standard. I cleared my throat after putting down my paper pad.

"I don't take kindly to threats, and it doesn't help your case that there was a struggle in your building when you were the last one in it. However, could I see those tapes?"

He nodded with an angry face. He grunted before standing and flattening down his tie.

"Yes, Eric, that would be great." Eric mocked jokingly as he stood and went over to a cabinet, inside were dozens of video tapes labeled. He grabbed one off the shelf, and then tossed it on the desk in front of me.

"This was the recording of five in the afternoon until five in the morning. Everything you need should be there."

"Are there any missing employees today?" I asked in case any of the employees had actually stayed in and left after Eric. Eric sat at the desk again, and brought up something on his computer.

"Punctuality is necessary in my work ethics, from coffee boy to CEO you are expected on time. We have 350 employees here at this building and many others in the medical research facilities across the world." Eric talked as he was messing around on his computer, he clicked a few buttons then sat back in his chair.

"We have one employee late today, an intern, Jessica Hamby. She is an intern for my underling, Miguel Longshadow." Eric explained as he sighed. "Could this have been the victim?"

"It could have been, but you said you were the last one out. Only the surveillance will tell me." I grabbed the video tape off the desk, and stood. "Thank you, Eric. We will be in touch."

"Good day, Sookie. Hope to see you again." He said before winking at me.

. . .

Alcide grinned at me in a goofy way as I stepped forward, and then he held a bag before me. He shook it a bit so that I would take it.

"What's this, a present for me?" I giggled. After working in Homicide for three years you have to get a certain humor about these things, you _have_ to. Alcide sometimes can have it, but mostly he just stares at me disapprovingly when I make a snide remark.

"Fingernails, real ones, ripped off from clawing. Did you get the videos?" Alcide wondered.

"Yes, Mr. Biggest Pervert in the world, gave them to me." I said as I waved the video in front of his face. Alcide took it from my hands with a strange face.

"Did he do anything to do?"

"No, not at all. He was just hitting on me and being creepy. He's married too, I saw his ring." I explained as Alcide and I started shuffling towards our car. It was a big pickup truck I bought many years ago, and I always drove much to Alcide's dismay. It was painted black with mudding tires and all the necessary decals from the Shreveport P.D, I recently just installed the police lights and sirens.

"We need to talk to his wife, so far he is the prime suspect. He was the last one to leave the building. There is just something off about him." I told Alcide.

"How about I call the wife and get to drive for once?" Alcide smirked as I pulled my car keys out.

"In your dreams." I scoffed as I climbed into the cab. I pulled out my cellphone, and dialed the station. I heard Alcide audibly sigh in annoyance before climbing in to the truck.

"Shreveport Police Department, how may I help you?" Tara said into the phone in a monotone voice. Tara has been one of my closest friends since I joined the force. She enjoyed her desk job, and she always had this spunk about her that brightened my day.

"Tara, it's Sookie. Can you find a number for me?"

"Hey, girl! Why yes I can, Detective. Who you lookin' for?" She said suddenly very happy, and I could hear her typing.

"A Northman perhaps. Eric Northman's wife. I need to speak with her."

"I'm looking through our system now. We have a few Northman's, but none of them are female. Oh, wait, I found a record with Eric Northman's name on it." Tara sighed as she clicked away. I pulled out of the parking garage heading towards the station since we had nowhere else to investigate.

"Um, Sook, this is an article from 6 months ago. It reads; Sophie Anne Leclerq-Northman was found dead this morning in her and her husband's apartment. Eric Northman of N&B Enterprises has no comment on the matter, and wishes for it to remain a tragedy. However from inside sources it seems that Leclerq was found mauled in her bathroom, it still remains unknown what occurred. The NYPD is calling it a murder investigation, and there are no suspects at the moment."

"Did you get all that, Sookie?" Tara questioned as I listened intently. I sighed before pressing the receiver closer.

"Yeah, thank you, Tara. Talk later." I said before hanging up. I tossed my phone onto the dashboard, and then glanced at Alcide. I started the truck, and carefully made my way out onto the main road.

"Eric's wife is dead. She died when he was living in NYC. She was mauled to death in her bathroom. Eric wasn't charged with anything. Right now we need to view those tapes because this looks pretty bad on Mr. Northman."

Alcide growled as he looked down at his hands, and then rested his head against the chair.

"Do you know anything about Eric Northman or Pamela Beaufort? It would help a lot, Alcide." I asked since I felt like he was hiding something. I could read people easily, it was just something I could always do. It took awhile to find a stable partner like Alcide because of my quirks. Alcide turned towards me, and I kept my eyes on the road but he knew I was listening.

"Eric was in the same platoon as me in the Marines. He had come here from Sweden when he was eighteen, and enlisted in the marines. He got out after I did, but I lost track of him until I visited New York City. We ran into each other at a coffee shop, I met his wife."

"And?"

"Sophie was beautiful, red haired, and a trip however Eric was rich now. He made his medical company with all his paychecks from Uncle Sam. Sophie though, she didn't look happy. Eric didn't either, and then a month later Sophie was murdered. That's all I know, Sookie. I promise." Alcide said as he raised his right hand up, and then rested back against his seat.

"Do you have any idea how she died? Like did Eric say anything to you?'

"No, but that woman he works with-Pam, she is as mean as a snake, and her and Eric were close. Closer than business partners. I think we need to call Eric down for questioning after the video tape. As much as he was a great guy in the service, this is adding up against him badly." Alcide voiced as he went to reach for something in his pocket. It was bagged evidence, and he flashed it towards me.

"This is a Swedish brand of cigarettes, the only person I know who smokes these is Eric. He smoked them in the service." He explained as he rolled the butts around in the bag.

"Why did you wait to tell me?"

"Because I wasn't sure how you were going to react."

"Alcide last time you hid information from me, I shot somebody. You are lucky that it was the right guy."

"I'm sorry,"

He could keep apologizing for the rest of his life, but I would still be pissed at him for a long time. Our last case before this one was a mass serial murder, and we slaved over it for months before Alcide got tipped. Alcide decided not to tell me the information, and went out on his own to arrest the man. I followed him luckily, but the skirmish cost somebody their life-good or bad it was still a life.

"You know how much therapy I was sent to because of Lenier? I didn't even need it. I shot him because I was protecting you! I'm making sure you aren't going to go out on a limb, and do something stupid."

"It wasn't stupid! He was our guy, wasn't he?"

"He might not always be, Alcide!" I growled as I turned into the station. I sighed while turning to him. "You are my partner, without you I am nothing. You can't endanger yourself like that. Eric Northman seems like a powerful man, if he can get away with murdering his wife then God knows what he can do."

Alcide nodded as I stepped out of the truck. As I was walking up I noticed that there were a ton of reporters at the front door, and Andy still red faced growling at them.

"Get off this property immediately! Have some respect your leeches!" Andy screamed over the yelling and flashing bulbs. Alcide and I pushed our way through the crowd, and stood next to Andy.

"What's going on L.T.?" Alcide put his hand on Andy's back to calm him as we led him inside.

"They saw you guys snooping around N&B Enterprises, they want to know what's happening. Slimey leeches, I hate them all. Oh, I think we found part of your vic." Andy told us as we stood in the front lobby. "Alcide stay here, and do the paperwork for what you found so far. Stackhouse, go to this address, and look at what some footmen found. Find the body, please." I was handed a piece of paper, and I knew exactly where this place was. It was an old restaurant that I worked at, Merlotte's. Andy didn't even acknowledge that he knew where this was, everyone in Bon Temps knew of Merlotte's. It was originally owned by Andy's family, but with Andy's families huge debt a younger man bought it out named Sam Merlotte.

Alcide growled at Andy, and swung around to face me. "This isn't fair!"

"Yes, it is, Alcide. Just watch the video and call me immediately when you get something." I told him, and walked out the front doors as tons of flashing bulbs went off again.

* * *

**[1] A zebra is a sergeant that is not well like. The term derives from the saying 'an ass with stripes', according to my husband who is a police officer.**

**Author's Note : So, let me know what you think. If I should continue or not! Thanks for the read, cheers.**


	2. Barton Hollow

**Author's Note: I do not own anything Charlaine Harris or True Blood related.**

* * *

_2._

I was feeling very nostalgic as I pulled up to the dive bar that used to be my source of income. My truck rumbled as I sat there for a minute debating on just walking out to the crime scene or saying hello to my old friend, Sam. I sighed heavily before jumping out of my truck, and shuffling over to the entrance to the restaurant. The door dinged as I entered, and a head with a brown, grey infested mop on top poked up from behind the bar. The bar wall was covered of photos from over the years, stuffed animals, and alcohol. Sam always had a sense of flair when it came to showing off how much money he had.

"Welcome to Merlott—Sookie Stackhouse? Hot damn, cher! It's been awhile, ain't it?" Sam called out as he walked around the bar. I smiled sheepishly, and offered him a hug which he gave me immediately.

"Nice to see you too, Sam—despite the circumstances. How have you been?" I questioned as I released him from my hug.

"Same ole, same ole, cher. Everyone, but you here still workin'. I'm guessing you wanna get outside, and see Jess."

"Huh? Jess?"

"The body outside, it's Jessica Hamby." Sam explained. How did he know the name of the vic? I looked at him incredulously before sitting him down.

"I'll be right back, alright? Don't go anywhere." I told him before heading out the back door to a sea of yellow tape. I could see a couple familiar Bon Temps deputies and Maxine Thortenberry on the side being nosy as usual.

"Maxine, you can't be here this is a crime scene." I called towards her.

"That's my daughter in-law! I want to see that bitch's corpse!" She growled as Kenya pushed Maxine back.

"Maxine, sit in the bar now. Call Hoyt while you are at it, as anybody told him his wife is dead?" I asked out loud. I didn't hear any agreements so, I pulled out my cellphone as I stepped over more yellow tape to see the body.

She was in a black mahogany coffin because her top half of her body lie in one that was busted open from Bon Temps Sheriff's Department. It seemed to have some symbols painted on the top and it was lined with red velvet. Silver chains rested on the ground beside the black coffin and she was bound and gagged. I stepped away, and motioned the photographer over.

"I want all those pictures straight on my desk nowhere else, you hear? I want a foot patrol out there looking for a pair of legs!" I yelled to a few deputies who gave me a thumbs up, and dragged their blood hounds to the forest.

"Who do you think done it?" Mike Spencer, the coroner and photographer of this town asked.

"Mike, I have no idea. I have a few theories."

"Well, you might wanna call a priest or somethin'." I was taken back by Mike's comment.

"Why?"

"Well, we lifted her hands and under them is this sign." I grabbed the already developed photograph from him, and I could clearly see a phoenix burned into the middle of her sternum. It was most likely done by a branding tool and had been meticulously cleaned.

"Thanks, Mike, will do." I mumbled as I dialed Hoyt's number into my cellphone. It rang three times before Hoyt answered.

"Hoyt here,"

"Hey, it's Sookie Stackhouse, you got a minute?" I said softly.

"Of course, Sook. What's up?"

"I need you to come down to my office in Shreveport."

He cleared his throat, and I could hear him shuffling. "Something happened?"

"Yeah, Hoyt, it's news better given in person. Wherever you are just head straight there, Alcide Herveaux will be there to help you if I'm not there in time."

"Okay, Sookie, whatever you say." Hoyt said. "Thank you," He politely said before hanging up the phone. Always the gentlemen, I thought. I sighed, and headed back over to the bar. I could see some people filing in, and I wanted to speak to Sam before I left. Maxine tried making her way towards me, but I held up a hand for her to stop.

"Come down to my office, and we will speak there." I sternly ordered. She nodded before making her way out. Sam was waiting by the bar, and he smiled at me. He a good ten years older than I was, and that was one of the reasons I had to leave Merlotte's, was Sam. He was looking at me with those same puppy dog eyes, and I just meekly smiled back.

"Can we speak in your office?" I motioned towards it as I stood by him. He nodded and lead me towards his office. When we walked in I noticed nothing had changed, the dog picture was still hanging proudly above his chair and it was still cluttered with alcohol and papers.

Sam took a seat at his desk and I stood next to him while bringing out my pad of paper. "Did you notice anything strange last night?"

"I wasn't home last night, I was out with a woman. I stayed the night at her house." Sam told me. I could see he was telling the truth, but I had no idea how late he was out or when he arrived home without talking to this woman. "You don't think I did this, Sookie? I knew Jess,"

"Sam, I don't think you did it, but most murders are done by people close to them. When did Jessica move here?" I questioned.

"She came here about three years ago. She moved in with Billie Compton, she's a distant niece of his." Sam stared at me waiting my reaction of Bill's name. I sighed, and set my pen down.

"Sam, I am a professional, just because Bill is your friend and someone I do not like doesn't mean I can't do my job. Did they get along together?" I continued my questioning.

"I heard there was always yelling between the two of them."

"You mean, Gran told you that?" I laughed. My Gran lived across the cemetery from the old Compton house, and she'd tell us tales of the curses on the Compton family. However she stopped the day Bill Compton moved in the house nineteen years ago. She no longer wanted to discuss the Comptons' and forbid Jason and me from ever going there as kids. Bill Compton was young when he moved into the house, but he looks the same as he did the first day I saw him.

He was very stoic with piercing blue eyes that would follow your every move. I was walking home from a friend's house one day in high school, and I could feel his gaze on me. He was standing on his front porch at night just staring out into the cemetery. Gran told me the family was cursed with having to live their days at night, they could not step out into the sun lest they wanted to be burned.

"Could I have Bill's number?" I asked Sam as I stood shaking the disturbing thoughts of Bill from my head. Sam handed me a piece of paper, and I looked at him and nodded my head. "Thanks, Sammie."

"No problem, Cher. You get whoever did this to Jess, if you need help from me you tell me."

"Will do, Sam. Tell Arlene to give me a call sometime." I chuckled as I headed out his office.

Once I was back in my truck I stared at the piece of paper. I debated with myself on just showing up or calling him first. I'd like to see if he really was cursed to just come out during the night, however I decided to call after sending a quick text to Alcide to tell Hoyt Thortenberry I may be a bit a late.

The phone rang a few times before the line picked up, and a deep southern accent answered the phone. "Compton, residence, Bill speaking."

"Hello, this is Detective Stackhouse with the Shreveport P.D."

"Stackhouse? Adele's granddaughter?"

"Yes, correct, sir. I was wondering if you could perhaps come down to the station in Shreveport."

"I know Jessica died. She called me last night."

"What?" I exclaimed as I brought out my pad. "What did she say?"

"She said she was going to a bar downtown that night because Hoyt was smothering her and being clingy. She asked if I knew of the bar, Lou Pine's, and I said do not go there. She didn't come home this morning, and then I saw this morning's paper of the dead body. I knew it was Jessica." He said, I growled slightly at the stupid nosy press that most likely made it's way there immediately after hearing of a body.

"You didn't take any action to contact authorities?"

"We weren't very close due to differences. Do you need anything else from me?" He sort of snapped at me.

"Yes, I need you to come down to the station as soon as possible."

"I will come tonight. Good day, Miss Stackhouse." Before I could correct him on my title he hung up the phone. I grumbled and tossed my phone into the passenger seat. I started my truck, and it roared violently as I peeled out of Merlotte's, hell bound out of this backwater town.

. . .

I burst into my office since I was getting annoyed at the multiple phone calls from Alcide. He started at me with wild eyes once I entered and he tossed the remote at me.

"You better call, Northman." Alcide said as he left the room. I sat down in my swivel chair, and pressed play on the video.

Jessica Hamby, tall and glowing white skin walked with a man to a random car. She turned to kiss the mysterious man, and they did for a few seconds before he opened the driver door for her. Suddenly the tape got a bit distorted, and I could see flashes of quick moving things before another red-headed woman grabbed Jessica by the ankles and pulled her from the car. Jessica kicked and broke one window. However the red-headed was scared off by something, and dashed away quicker than I had ever seen. Then a pair of glowing yellow eyes took over the entire screen before the tape goes blank.

I backed away from the television, and suddenly fumbled for my phone. I found my coat hanging on the back of my door, and searched viciously for the card in my pocket. I dialed the personal number of Eric Northman. He answered on the first ring.

"So, what did you find?"

"We need to talk. Immediately."

"My office?" He questioned with suave.

"Yes, I'll meet you there at ten tonight?"

"It's a date." He said before hanging up. I was still astounded at the yellow eyes staring back at me on the television. What the hell was that?

"Alcide!" I yelled for him. He was there in a flash, and he stood in my doorway while smoothing back his hair.

"Yeah, Sook?"

"Bill Compton is coming tonight, you are to meet with him and interrogate. Record it. I have meeting tonight, but first let me talk to Hoyt." I said as I placed the remote in his hand. I pushed past him, and was greeted to the sight of sweet, innocent Hoyt sitting in our conference room with a cup of cup that was most likely cold.

"Hey, Hoyt, how you doin'?" I questioned before sitting down.

"I've thrown up twice. That's what is going on." Oh, yeah, I forgot he throws up when he gets nervous. Our high school championship football game, his senior year, he threw up all over the field and the player slipped that was rushing after Jason. This gave Jason the advantage to make the winning touch down, and then got his knee blown out by a three hundred and twenty pound linebacker.

"Hoyt, the body at Merlotte's is Jessica's. There is no easy way to tell you, I am just being frank." I said with sadness, and gripped his hand. "If you need any help we have many people you can talk to including me. However, I need to ask you a few questions."

Hoyt had already been crying before I started talking. I held his hand tighter as he started full out sobbing and repeating that it was his fault. I shook his hand slightly, and he looked up at me. "Hoyt this is not your fault, you hear?" I consoled him.

"Yes it is, I pushed her away, and this happens."

"What do you mean 'you pushed her away'?"

"She wanted to go out and see the world. She was only nineteen, and I wanted to stay home with her. She fought me constantly until last night we got into this huge fight. She stormed off saying she was going to Shreveport, and I regret the last words I said to her because they were true." He was sobbing uncontrollably into his arm. I inched away, and snapped my fingers to have him look at me.

"What did you say?"

"I told her that at this time of night in Shreveport that she would get murdered. I was fuckin' right! It happened!" He wailed. I slowly backed away, and made my way through the door before turning back to look at him.

"I'll find that son of a bitch, Hoyt. I promise you."

He glanced up at me with his tear filled puppy dog eyes, and only just nodded at me.

. . .

My truck skidded through the streets until I made my way to The Tower, I could see Mr. Northman's shiny corvette parked in the lot. I scoffed as I climbed out of the car with the tape in my hand. The door man let me in, and I stepped into the elevator. As the elevator climbed a million thoughts ran through my head, mostly ones of the piercing yellow eyes that dug into my soul when I saw them.

I looked down at my hands and noticed they were shaking. I rubbed them together as the elevator door dinged and flew open. Mr. Northman was waiting for me in the lobby. He was dressed casually in button down shirt and a pair of Levi jeans. His hair was greased back as usual, and he had a cigarette dangling from his mouth. They clung to his massive thighs and the combat boots he wore stomped harshly against the marble as he strutted towards me.

"I hoped you wouldn't have to see what was on that tape."

"I did, now, tell me what the fuck is going on." I growled. "Someone's wife is dead, and I have a grown man crying at my station. What the _fuck _did you do?!" I yelled with a hand on my gun. He suddenly was right in front of me. It startled me to the point of where I almost fell down. His gaze was strong, and he went to grab me but I stepped aside. He kept eye contact with me, and sort of grinned as he stepped forward while flicking the butt of his cigarette into a nearby plant.

"Detective Stackhouse," He said in an alluring voice. "You are no longer interested in this case. You will not pursuit anyone who was affiliated with Jessica Hamby, and actually, you want a paid vacation." His gaze did not halt, and he continued to stare at me. It felt weird like he was prodding my brain. I shook my head, and pushed on his chest hard.

"What are you doing, freak?" I growled.

He looked very confused and astonished at me. He cleared his throat before cocking his head to the side and smiling. "What are you?"

"I'm a police officer, what the fuck are you?"

"You just resisted my glamour." He laughed while wagging his finger at me.

"What are you talking about?" I said slightly scared. He stepped forward, and smelled me. He actually sniffed me. He was starting to scare me, so I backed up while pulling out my gun. "You stay back, Mr. Northman."

Once again his agility was inhuman and he was behind me. "You're very special, Detective Stackhouse. No one has able to resist my glamour."

I was wondering if I was dreaming. This couldn't be real. How could a man move that quickly? I turned on my heel, and pointed my gun at him. "Give me some answers right now!"

"I am just like you. I have a few different qualities." He grinned as he evaded my question in a alarmingly calm tone. "I am the nightmare children fear, I am the man many drool over, I am a vampire, Detective Stackhouse. I am sure you have heard of vampires."

I lowered my gun knowing it would not kill him. I couldn't believe my ears, was this freak really telling me he is a vampire?

"No way, you're lying. I'm just dreaming is all?"

He took a few steps towards me still grinning away before pinching me. I yelped and all he did was laugh. "On the contrary I am very much vampire except I lack a few qualities that most do."

My head throbbed with pain and confusion. I sat down quickly and rubbed my temples. "You have to show me something to prove it." I told him whilst glaring up at him, thinking I was still dreaming. He chuckled as he sat on the coffee table in front of me. He grabbed my hands, which made me look at his face intently. Suddenly two long fangs protruded from his canines with a clicking noise. His smile turned into a sneer in the matter of seconds.

"Can you believe it now, Detective Stackhouse?"

"How do you walk in the daylight?"

"I run a pharmaceutical company, do I not? I have been a hybrid of human and vampire for fifteen years, but I have been alive well over one thousand years. I created a drug for vampires, made by vampires to turn them human of their own free will. However the side effects are still blood cravings, immortality, and physical attributes when being a vampire such as my speed. So basically, I created the super human." He explained to me. I sat there nodding my head in acknowledgement.

"Why haven't you guys come out?"

"We do not want that. Everyone would want to be a vampire/human hybrid. What's the fun in that then?" He said as he lit another cigarette, and stood before me.

"What else exists?" I asked exasperated as he held out a massive hand.

"More than you could possibly imagine."

* * *

** Author's Note: Hope you guys are liking it! I would greatly appreciate a favorite or reviews. I like hearing feedback. Cheers!**


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